EN SONNETS 



GF/ 



N BACON 




, SALT LAKE Cn 
THE ARROW PR: 



SEVEN SONNETS 



By 



GEORGE MORGAN BACON 




SALT LAKE CITY 

THE ARROW PRESS 

1913 



-^5 3 3-03 



Copyright, 1913 
By Geo. M. Bacon 

DEC 31 1913 



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(g:i,A860532 



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AN ARM 

You say I cannot write unto an arm 

A sonnet that shall have the purpose sole 

Of voicing in my feeble way the charm 

Which makes that part symbolic of the whole? 

And do you fancy, sweet, that the soft line 

And curves so fair perchance could strike me dumb. 

Or that the glow of life and tints so fine 

Mayhap would turn my throbbing senses numl^? 

The perfect sweep of contour tap'ring down 

From shoulder to the dainty finger tips, 

The grace of motion that is beauty's crown. 

Are magic that must force up to my lips 

The words that I could stifle from all harm 

With eager kisses showered on your arm. 

Feb. 26, 19 13. 



IMMORTALITY 

I cannot die, for deathless in me lives 
A spirit that throughout all time must cast 
Some aura from itself, some force which gives 
Unto the Future that which from the Past 
Came unto me; perchance in different guise. 
And wearing in its face no semblance clear 
To link it with the shape which in 3'our eyes 
Doth clothe the essence that shall mock the bier 
The life eternal that the many crave. 
Bound to this earthly one by memories sweet 
And bitter that alone survive the grave. 
Is but a rainbow glow with which to cheat 
The selfish hopes that selfishly incline 
To moulding from the human the divine. 

Feb, 26^ igij. 



TO MOTHER 

I want you to remember, dear, 

I'm trying in my childish way 

To stop those naughty things you fear 

1'hat I am sure to do each day : 

Because I'm careless when you speak 

And often no attention give, 

You must not think I really seek 

A willful, selfish life to live. 

1 know that wdien you have to scold 

And even have to punish me, 

It is because when I am old 

You want me for my sake to be 

A woman who, the same as you, 

Can never shirk what she should do. 

Feb, i6, 1913. 



FAILURE 

Thou seeniest like a spectre gaunt 
That in the path of effort leers, 
A grim forbidding shape to haunt 
The soul beset by doubt and fears; 
Thy hungry maw doth eyer feed 
Insatiate on the hearts of men 
Whose timid hopes as vaguely lead 
As marsh lights flitting o'er a fen. 
Thou art the mother goddess fair 
Whose nurture turns the chosen few 
From clay into a marble rare 
From which the hand of Fate may hew 
Those forms immortal and sublime 
That mock the petty march of Time. 

March ij, IQIJ. 



A KISS 

Thou art the sign and symbol sure 
Of all that seething burns within, 
Or that which with a radiance pure 
Was purged by suff ring from all sin ; 
.\ measure art thou of the sum 
And substance of the things unseen, 
A potent spell to leave all dumb 
The sobs that voice a grief once keen. 
Love's soul all rushing to my lips 
As nestling in my arms you lie. 
I feel how from my being slips 
This mortal coil as I defy 
In one long kiss both time and space 
Drugged by the fragrance of thy face. 

Apr. 4, iQij. 



TO PHRYNE 

And do they think your hold on me 

Is grounded in those fibres true 

Which form the being that is free 

But for the few soft hours with you? 

Enchantress art thou in that thou 

Canst for a moment lift the load 

That scars with creases my poor brow 

And pricks me forward as a goad. 

Thy gleaming flesh is but a veil 

To hide the face of worry grim, 

For gnawing cares in vain assail 

The man whose powers the senses dim 

In those brief times when passion's sway 

Grants to thy charms their little day. 

Apr. g, igjj. 



LIFE 

'Tis but a torch-race that we run 

Along the ancient path that leads 

From hopes by lovers' fancy spun 

To shadows that the twilight breeds ; 

A path that countless feet have trod, 

Which, seeming ever new, is yet 

Common to those who humbly plod 

And those whose souls high longings fret. 

The vital spark is given each 

To fan or quench as needs may be. 

The blessed ones are those who reach 

Into the darkness as they flee 

And from the stars that stud the night 

Glean fire immortal for their light. 

Dec, 4, 1913. 



